At the outset Unravel: The Power and Politics of Textiles in Art challenges the pervasive relegation of textile art to the margins of art history, where it has often been derided as a craft. This is foregrounded by American artist Jeffrey Gibson’s suspended ceremonial dresses Prism (2018),We Play Endlessly (2018), Speak to me so I can Understand (2018) and People Like Us (2019) welcoming us at the entrance. Having struggled with the internal hierarchies of art and craft in his practice, the installation, inspired by native American ceremonial wear, is a tribute to pluralism and complex histories of ritual, protest and power. Despite textiles being central to the fabric of our daily lives, adorning our art gallery bodies and spaces, they have frequently been overlooked in discussions of conceptual or innovative fine art. Encompassing processes ranging from knitting, stitching, weaving, embroidering, knotting and quilting, the exhibition includes wall hangings, sculptures and installations. Foregrounding the sensuality, tactility, and materiality of textile art, the exhibition celebrates their intrinsic beauty while foregrounding their capacity for conceptual innovation and critical engagement.

Structured around six thematic pillars—Subversive Stitch, Fabric of Everyday Life, Borderlands, Bearing Witness, Wound and Repair and lastly, Ancestral Threads—each serves as a conduit for exploring the myriad ways in which artists employ textiles to investigate power structures, dismantle hierarchies, and amplify marginalised voices. From subverting the patriarchal gaze to challenging the legacies of colonialism and capitalism, the artworks showcased in Unravel: The Power and Politics of Textiles in Art offer profound insights into the complexities of race, class and gender. Weaving together personal narratives and communal histories, these creations serve as poignant testimonies to the resilience and agency of marginalised communities, while also bearing witness to the injustices and inequalities that persist in society.

The exhibition moves seamlessly and continuously between the personal to the geo-political. Diagnosed with a long-term illness Brazilian artist José Leonilson recorded his shifting physical statistics through stitches on fabric in Where can I find one bay to rest my head? (1990) and Sem titulo [untitled], (1991) thus inviting viewers into his inner world of introspection and vulnerability. Similarly, Zimbabwean sculptor Georgina Maxim’s multilayered fabric, lace and embellished dress Dear Fesmeri and Mareni, The Dress Doesn’t Fit (2022) alludes to childhood trauma and overcoming loss.

Alongside them, two large tapestries titled american juju for the Tapestry of Truth (2015) by Mexican artist Teresa Margolles bear witness to police brutality against black communities in North America and boldly call for accountability for racial violence. South African artist Igshaan Adams’ Gebedswolke (Prayer Clouds, 2021-23) presents metallic mesh cloud-like shapes woven with thread, twine, wire, fabric, chain and rope and embellished with beads, delving into the resilient pathways forged by marginalised communities and exploring the interplay of identity, spirituality and economic disparity.

Throughout the exhibition, the communal nature of textile art emerges as a powerful force for solidarity and empowerment. Filipino artist Cian Dayrit works in collaboration with indigenous groups to embroider and paint pseudo-maps like Valley of Dispossession (2021); these offer subaltern cartographies that challenge colonial narratives and reclaim the voices of the dispossessed. Similarly, Malaysian artist Yee I-Lann collaborated with weavers from Pulau Omadal to create Tikar/Meja (2018), a grid of colourful woven mats each with a table to highlight the oppressive social and economic impact of colonialism.

As the exhibition highlights, textile art has the power to speak from ‘below’, to highlight injustices, fears and atrocities. On display are four Arpilleristas from the 1970s made surreptitiously by groups of anonymous women protesting President Augusto Pinochet’s authoritarian regime in Chile. Also in the exhibition is a red rectangular work with a linear abstract design, Luingamla Kashan (1990 - ongoing) by Indian artist and activist Zamthingla Ruivah, bearing witness to the brutal murder of her friend Luingmala, living in Ngainga village in 1986 by the Special Armed Forces and subsequent struggle for justice. Over 15000 Kashans have been woven by more than 6000 women across 232 villages, keeping alive an elegy to a young woman.

Our vocabulary is sorely limited when attempting to describe the diversity of the materials and processes of fabric art—from the organic unfolding of Indian sculptor Mrinalini Mukherjee’s Rudra (Deity of Terror) (1982) and Basanti (1984) knotted hemp suspended deity forms in earth tones juxtaposed against Polish sculptor and fibre artist Magdalena Abakanowicz’s Vêtement Noir (Black garment) (1968). The work is a monumental suspended indeterminate form, close in spirit to a weaver bird nest, alongside American fibre artist Lenore Tawney’s minimalist monochromatic abstract frontally viewed suspended weaves Path II (1965-71), The Megalithic Doorway (1963) and Breath of Earth (1964). The works dominate the space through size, colour and texture, overwhelming viewers through physical presence and their siren call for a tactile exchange, whether in the colourful exuberance of the stitched shag rugs in Peruvian-American textile artist Sarah Zapata’s To Teach or To Assume Authority (2018-19) or the peaceful calm of rivulets of unspooled fabric suspended from the ceiling in Chilean artist Cecilia Vicuña’s Quipu Austral (2012).

In our world of global migration and a growing third culture population, textile art is simultaneously culturally specific and has the ability to incorporate new exchanges. The Netherlands-based Argentinian artist Mercedes Azpilicueta’s monumental tapestry Lady’s Dream or Stop Right There Gentleman! (2019) tells the medieval legend of Lucia Miranda, a Spanish Christian woman abducted by indigenous people in the 16^th century, unpacking her journey and the histories of both her native and her chosen homes. Korean artist Kimsooja’s Bottari: The Island (2011) cloth bundles replicate traditional carry bags and speak of her own itinerant life while remaining evocative of migrations caused by political conflicts. Approaching this notion of assimilated identities differently, Canadian artist Tau Lewis’s The Coral Reef Preservation Society (2019) stitches a monumental patchwork quilt as a large aquatic landscape using found fabrics collected during her global travels to remember the enslaved peoples who died at sea, thus imagining the ocean as ‘black geography’ of undocumented lives.

Unravel: The Power and Politics of Textiles in Art is co-curated by the Barbican, London and Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam. It emerges as a groundbreaking exploration of the transformative potential of textile art. It challenges us to unravel conventional art historical hierarchies to reimagine the boundaries of artistic expression, and to embrace the profound significance of textiles in shaping our collective consciousness. Through this exhibition, we are invited to embark on a journey of discovery and contemplation, where the seemingly mundane fibres of everyday life are transformed into vessels of profound meaning and social resonance.

Unravel: The Power and Politics of Textiles in Art will be on view at the Barbican Centre until May 26, 2024.

(Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed here are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the official position of STIR or its Editors.)